


Lords and Boys

by cokeflow



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Awesome Leia, Gay Poe Dameron, Good Parent Han Solo, Han Solo Lives, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren Being a Little Shit, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren and Rey Are Related, Lesbian Phasma, M/M, Parents Han and Leia, Trans Hux, Young Rey, finn is dating poe, finn is so good, poe is dating finn, rey is in on their thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-08 21:31:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6874411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cokeflow/pseuds/cokeflow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a fic for a Band AU I made up on my tumblr omgfinnn. check it</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> so, i have no idea what I'm doing here. this is the first fic i have ever done. ever. hope u like, k?

Kylo laid in bed, absentmindedly striking the white lighter in his hand over and over again until his thumb became hot. He watched the way the fire cascaded over the lip of the lighter and spilled over the side. The flame dimly lit everything in a three-inch radius. The pristine white blankets were orange and black. The light reflected off of the sleeping figure next to him. Hux’s orange hair appeared even more so, and his freckles were surprisingly visible. He did not stir despite the lighter clicking. 

Kylo sat up and pushed away the duvet , making sure to keep Hux covered. He hated to be cold. The neon alarm clock read 2:53 AM. Kylo made haste and got dressed quickly and silently. The pack of Marlboro cigarettes that lay on the desk were pocketed. He cast one last glance at his sleeping boyfriend in their bed - _their bed_ \- and stepped out into the cold New York morning.

The morning, it seemed, is more like the night than Kylo expected. 

_'That doesn’t matter,’_ he thought, _‘the streetlights provide at least some light’._

He pawed at his pocket and produced the pack of cigarettes in the dim light. He put one between his lips and lit it, the flickering of the lighter momentarily flashing up to his face. 

Kylo had long, black hair. Not stringy and greasy, but unnaturally soft and healthy. His face was dotted with freckles and beauty marks alike. There was an aching scar marring his face, almost splitting it in half. It was pink and red, a stark contrast to the paleness of Kylo’s skin. The scar was _new_ \- he had just noticed it in the mirror last night.

Kylo inhaled.

Hux had insisted they found an apartment away from the city, him and his senseless sensitivity to harsh noises. Kylo had thought he would be used to noise by now, from hearing his band play so many times, from standing backstage and enduring hours of screaming from both Kylo and the sea of admirers that seemed to stretch on for miles. 

_‘The Knights of Ren, of course, we’ll never be as big as the Galactic Resistance,’_ Kylo thought. Kylo’s grandfather, Anakin, went under the pseudonym Vader and made an empire for himself, defying any and every negative act against him. Vader had made it. Kylo had vowed to finish what he started when he died. Kylo had been Ben at the time, a naïve boy, a young one. Kylo had gradually realized what he wanted, and at the same time, realized what he needed to do to get there.

His mother had tried. She saw potential in him and tried. It wasn’t good enough. His Uncle Luke played _ukulele in an indie band, Mom._ He wanted to learn _electric guitar, god! Can’t you at least try to understand? Are you listening to me at all?_

Han had been gracious, as gracious as he could have been. He gave Kylo a few thousand and his old van, the Falcon, as a graduation present. Then Kylo was on his own. He slowly found solace with Hux and Phasma, and of course with his band members. Kylo and Hux started dating, and Kylo now had somewhere to live. _Someone to live with._

Kylo exhaled.


	2. chapter 2

Hux stepped into the small shower, the weak spray barely misting his hair. He took a deep breath before stepping face-first into the stream, feeling every individual drop of water hit his body.  
He must have been standing there for no less than one minute before the curtain opened and Kylo stepped in. Strong arms wrapped around Hux’s waist -just barely skimming the bottom of the scars on his chest- and Kylo’s lips found their way to the back of Hux’s neck.

“You’ve been smoking.” Hux stated, turning his head slightly to his boyfriend, just barely looking over his shoulder. His words were sleepy and monotonous. 

Kylo grimaced against Hux’s freckles. 

“Sorry. Couldn’t sleep.” came Kylo’s muffled answer. 

Hux nodded once and turned his face back into the stream, looking upwards with his eyes scrunched shut.

Kylo unraveled himself from Hux and began washing his body. The white foam swirled around their feet, sticking, eventually washing away slowly down the drain. 

They both completed their cleaning routine before the water ran cold.

Kylo wrapped his thin towel around his dripping waist and stepped out of the bathroom, leaving Hux alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hux turned and stared at his chest in the foggy mirror.

The only evidence of his operation were the long, sweeping, pink scars that stretched from his sternum all the way to the bottoms of his armpits, stitches still in. The doctor had said they’d fall out on their own. A few had, and the minuscule holes were slightly unnerving.   
His eyes slowly made their way up his body, studying it, as though he’d never seen it before.  
Hux’s shoulders were small and his collarbones prominent. His body was an even shade of _pale_. A smattering of red and brown freckles covered the tops of his arms, trailing down to his delicate wrists. His hips were covered in them.  
His hair was as flaming orange as ever, it had always been this way. It was cropped short and shaped to his face. It hadn’t always been this way. 

Hux looked closer and saw his _green_ eyes and _blonde_ eyelashes.

Hux looked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Kylo’s favorite type of music was 70’s rock. He had thousands of records designated to a specific wall, all alphabetized. Most of them were dusty from disuse, but a few were obviously well-used and favorited. He scanned his collection, only taking his eyes off the racks to look down on the smaller, equally fixated figure that had walked up next to him.

Their wet footprints left marks on the floor behind them.

“I’m feeling like it’s an Bowie day.” Hux’s voice was soft.

Every day was Bowie day, but Kylo never mentioned that. He followed Hux’s slender finger point, reaching to the top shelf to grab the record. He handed it to Hux, who took it over to the large player that sat on a rickety table that they had bought when Kylo had moved in at a garage sale for 50 cents. 

The music started quietly, but soon filled the whole apartment. 

Kylo came up behind Hux and grabbed his hands, spinning him around to face him. Hux looked at Kylo in surprise, and gave a shout when he found himself suddenly being tossed over Kylo’s broad shoulder and being jostled around as Kylo made his way to their shared bed. 

Kylo plopped Hux down on his back, a small grunt coming from Hux as he bounced on the disheveled blankets. 

“What is _up_?” Kylo asked Hux exaggeratedly, climbing over the figure below him.

“Nothing! Nothing’s _up_.” Hux said defensively, crawling back onto his elbows, freckled shoulders hunching up to meet his ears.

“It’s insulting that you don’t think I know when something is wrong with you. I’ve been your boyfriend for what, two years? I’ve been with you through nearly every mood you’ve gone through. When you get all quiet, something’s wrong. It’s either something I did, which it normally always is, or it’s something your colleagues did, which I know that it isn’t,” Kylo rolled over onto the pillows, dragging Hux on with him, “because you haven’t been in to work for a few days. Because you’re taking a _‘vacation’_.” He huffed and squirmed against the sheets, trying to get comfortable. 

Hux looked into the brown eyes of the man next to him. 

“Do you _really_ want to know?” He asked, raising his voice slightly. 

Kylo’s eyebrows raised. “Yes, obviously, I do.”

“You. You’re my problem.”

Kylo snorted. “Me? Called it! Was it me smoking this morning? You know it helps me sleep.”

Hux’s face turned red. “That’s called addiction, Kylo. And if it makes you feel any better, yes, it is the smoking. You know how I feel about it.”

“You are such a hypocrite. You smoke! Occasionally, that is, but still, it applies.”

“I’m not in the mood for this.” Hux pushed himself off of the pillows, heading for the dresser. 

Kylo laid back, his eyes on the frame of his boyfriend. He watched as Hux untied the towel around his waist and tossed it over the wooden chair in the corner, and proceeded to dig around in the designated top drawer for underwear. 

“Red? Really? You usually wear grey.” Kylo commented, watching Hux step into his briefs.

“Well, I’m feeling festive.” Hux shot back.

“Hey, that’s mine. Put those back down. Don’t look at me like that, they’re comfortable!”

“I don’t even want to know where you got these.”

“Are you going to wear my _favorite Galactic Empire_ shirt to spite me? Yep. Looks like it.”

“It’s _my_ favorite Empire shirt too, you brat.”

Hux crossed the room to turn the record off. Kylo read the alarm clock. It’s 2:52 PM.


End file.
